Our Darkest Hours
by Gothic-Princess-77
Summary: Birthday fic for Jgirl911. Bayverse. Jazz died in Mission City, right? Wrong! There was that chance that he could live, and he did. Who took that chance? NOW A TWO CHAPTER STORY!
1. Chapter 1

Birthday Fic for Jgirl911. Bayverse. Sorry it's a little late, Jill! Happy (late) Birthday. Summary- Jazz died in Mission City, right? Wrong! There was the chance that he could live, and he did. But who took that chance? Rated-T just to be safe. Warnings- Mentions of SLASH! Don't like, don't read!

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Our Darkest Hours

He had felt it, one million light years away. It had been there. It had been painful, and he knew exactly who it had been from. He had felt the black abyss open in his spark where the other had once been, he had felt the intense pain of being torn apart that was not even his own.

Now, standing in the hanger where they were keeping the greyed, yet fixed, frame of his mate, he couldn't help but wish it wasn't his mate laying there, but instead anyone else. He felt bad about thinking that, especially when he had thought to himself, out of spite, _"You didn't try hard enough, Ratchet! That should be you lying there! It's your fault he's gone! You could have saved him!" _But of course it wasn't the medic's fault, that was just the grief talking, and he quickly banished any other thoughts like that one.

"Is there a chance?" he finally asked quietly. Ratchet jumped; startled that he had even spoken. The medic had told him of a procedure that could bring his mate back, but had also warned him that it very likely wouldn't work. Yet, if there was even a chance…

"There is a chance," the medic began slowly, pausing as though wanting to say more, but unsure how exactly to say it. The other vented a sigh through his intakes and rubbed a hand over his face. He was so tired. "Spit it out, Ratchet."

The medic seemed taken aback by his tone, but hesitantly continued, "There are just too many negative possibilities. You might not survive, or it might not take, and the sacrifice would all be for nothing if you did die, or he could wake up with all kinds of glitches, or he could have no memories, or if, by any slim chance you both **did **survive, your bond could be broken, and you would spend the rest of your lives in misery being unable to establish **any **kind of bond. There are just too many risks, and I really don't recommend going through with this."

It seemed as though the medic was going to say more, and he interrupted with, "Would you do it in my place?" That seemed to halt Ratchet in his tirade.

"W-What?"

He made a frustrated sound in response to the medic's dense question of shock. "If it was Sideswipe or Sunstreaker there, dead, but with a chance to live again, would you do it?"

The medic stammered, trying to come up with a reasonable and honest answer that would convince him to not go through with this, but he had already made up his processor. He just had to make Ratchet see that.

"You would. You care too much for them to let them remain dead. It is the same for me. So stop being a hypocrite. I have made my decision. We will proceed with the surgery. I would die eventually without him anyway. It is only logical to try to revive him."

Ratchet tried to talk him out of it, pointing out flaws in his plans and basically, as the humans would say, "Throwing a shit-fit" over his choice. However, he would not be swayed on this decision. He would not live without his mate, one way or the other. He was either going to join him in death, or be reunited with him here among the functioning. There was no other choice in his optics. When Ratchet **finally **understood this, he caved in and went about prepping the tools for the surgery.

He settled down on one of the medical berths and watched the medic work. Ratchet approached him and slipped a needle into the main energon line in his neck. He fell under the spell of the medical drugs without complaint and was lost in the sweet and wonderful darkness, slipping away from the functioning world for now. He was relieved to be away from what had truly been his darkest hours.

* * *

The surgery had been successful. It had all gone off without any major hitches, except for one. Ratchet gave a sad glance towards the once black and white, now fully grey frame, even as the blue visor of a small silver mech flickered back online after so long believed dead. He turned professional once more as he walked over to his patient. "Jazz, what do you remember?"

The silver mech rubbed his helm. "Not much, Doc. I remember some faces, some names, my name, and the search for the All-Spark, but that's about it." Jazz then spotted the grey frame behind the medic. "Who is that, Ratchet?" Ratchet followed his gaze, staring at the dead frame of the once-great tactician of the Autobot Army, and shook his helm sadly. So Jazz didn't remember him. He glanced back at the Spec. Ops 'bot.

"He was a hero, Jazz. The head tactician of the Autobots, and a kind spark beneath his stoic attitude. He literally traded his life for yours." Jazz was silent as he let the new information sink in. It all sounded familiar, but he didn't know why, so he set those thoughts aside for now.

"Ratchet?"

"Hm?"

"What was his name?" Ratchet froze at the innocent question, and had to fight back the coolant tears that sprang to his optics at the thought that Jazz did not remember his own bondmate's name.

"Prowl. His name was Prowl."


	2. Chapter 2

Ok, originally this was just a one-shot, but the response I got was not expected (and I was unhappy with the depressing ending, since the story was a birthday-fic) so it has become a two chapter story. Now, you all must be happier! **THIS WILL BE THE LAST CHAPTER! **Warning- Once again, there is mentions of SLASH! Don't like, don't read! And by the way, Disclaimer- I don't own Transformers.

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Chapter 2

There was something missing. He wasn't stupid, or naïve, he knew it was gone, but he could not figure out what was missing. It did not help that Ratchet seemed to be avoiding the question. Whenever he would bring it up, the medic would not-so-subtly change the subject.

So Jazz remained silent. He contented himself with socializing with his fellow Autobots, who had thought he was dead for the longest time. It was nice to just relax a bit and catch up with old friends that he barely remembered. There was a lull in the war, and the time to interact was doing wonders for his corrupted memory files.

But that nagging doubt, that feeling of something missing, kept coming back. He tried to push it from his mind, but it simply would not rest. Oh, and let's not forget to mention the memory fluxes. He would wake up with images of the Autobot Ratchet had identified as Prowl. Some images were so familiar, and yet, as soon as he awoke, they were gone like a leaf blowing away on the wind. He simply could not pin the memories down, and it was starting to annoy him.

One day he had decided enough was enough.

"Ratchet, something is missing. It has something to do with Prowl, but I don't know what it is exactly. You have to tell me," Jazz begged as he sat on a medical berth in the med bay. The medic and the Ops mech were the only two who were seemingly paying attention. The newly arrived Sunstreaker sat in a chair in the corner of the med bay with a datapad, presumably drawing something and ignoring the other two mechs.

Ratchet hesitated, his facial expression nearly impossible to read, but his EM field was like an open book. He was worried about something.

Sunstreaker looked up, his helm tilted to the side as he spoke up for the first time, "Just tell him. Whatever happens is what happens. You can't control it. He needs to know sooner or later anyway. Better from you than someone else." Apparently the golden warrior had been paying more attention than Jazz had thought he was.

Still, Ratchet hesitated.

Jazz vented a sigh when it seemed like the medic wasn't going to tell him. He was just so tired of all the secrets! Sick of the others tip-toeing around him as though he would break if they said something wrong. He wanted answers, damn it! Not more questions that would remain unanswered, no, he wanted none of that. He had enough unanswered questions already, an example being the unexplained lagging of his systems. His spark was constantly hurting, and his intakes seemed to have trouble venting air properly through his systems. He had no idea what was going on, Ratchet wouldn't say anything, and he hated it!

"Ratchet, tell him. Now. Or I will," Sunstreaker growled warningly, setting aside his datapad and rising to walk over to the medic and tower over said medic. "Sun-"

"You're being a little hypocritical again. If it was Sideswipe or I in Jazz's position, you would have to tell us. Kind of hard to hide the fact that something very important is missing anyway, isn't it?" Sunstreaker interrupted, glaring down at the medic.

Ratchet glared right back, before he slumped in defeat, venting a sigh and running a hand over his face plates in a very human-like gesture. Sunstreaker smirked in triumph and returned to his seat, picking up his datapad and resuming whatever he was doing earlier as though nothing had happened.

Ratchet sighed again, and met Jazz's visor-covered optics, "Jazz, Prowl was your bondmate. As I said before, he literally traded his life for yours. Any pain you may be feeling is from the broken bond. Your systems are trying to cope with the loss of something that was nearly as important as your own spark. The fact that you're having any memories of Prowl at all is a miracle in and of itself. The surgery was supposed to actually kill you both, but you survived. I had never actually performed the surgery successfully before. Prowl knew the possibilities, and he took the chance anyway. However, because of this surgery, you will never be able to establish any other kind of bond, and you will most likely feel pain for the rest of your existence. As far as I know, there are no other side effects. If you have no more questions, kindly get out of my med bay."

Feeling numb from the revelations, Jazz stood and left, walking slowly as though in a trance. As he was leaving, he caught sight of Sunstreaker catching the medic in his arms, and he would have smirked if he was feeling normal.

But he felt far from normal. Something very important had been missing. Prowl, his bondmate, had been missing, and was still missing. He didn't like that, not at all.

Yet, he somehow knew that what Ratchet had said was not actually the truth. Sure, Ratchet **thought **it was the truth; the medic would never lie to him. Ratchet simply did not know what Jazz was currently feeling.

He felt Prowl out there somewhere. He didn't know where, he didn't know why or how, he just knew his other half was out there, and he had to find him. Processor made up, Jazz headed off Autobot base.

* * *

They were searching, never resting, always moving. Both knew they were incomplete, missing a piece of themselves. So they were searching for each other, for they could never be at peace if they were apart. It had been so long since they'd had any contact with anyone, organic or otherwise. Were they themselves even alive anymore? How long had it really truly been? It did not matter.

All that mattered was finding their other half.

They had traveled across galaxies, their sparks reaching for each other, drawing them closer and closer together, until at last, after so very long, they found each other.

There were no soft words of love or reassurance; words were not even needed. They simply embraced each other, held each other close, and they finally felt peace. Here was what they had been searching for for so very long.

No one would ever tear them away from each other again.

They would stay like this forevermore, content to hold each other for all eternity.

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END! Review please!


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